Marlon Brando saved my life because I was really depressed.Or rather, I amreally depressed, only now I have tools, vocabulary, and a bigger world view to help me get through the rough patches. But up until five years ago, I was fucked.

When I was in kindergarten I was molested by another kid in my class. We could go into the details of the abuse, but I'll just say it was humiliating and continued for a year.

Way back in the day (read: autumn of 2010), the carefree college kid that used to be me jetted off to jolly old England for a semester abroad. As I lugged my overstuffed bags through my first Underground station, I paused to wipe my brow directly next to a poster depicting people in fancy dresses. Upon closer inspection — because what girl can resist a good gown? – I discovered it to be a new iTV program set in the early 1900s called Downton Abbey.

As if I needed more encouragement than that to tune in, Dame Maggie Smith was one of the stars. ​

Let me start off by saying 2016 really sucks. It just seems like all at once major popular culture figures are going up to the big spirit in the sky. And for very sudden reasons the general public are not made aware of. I can't handle this anymore. Someone put Tom Hank in a bubble please!

When David Bowie died I was stunned. Just utter denial. But I actually didn't cry for a while. I was depressed for sure but I didn't cry. When I found out about Prince’s death, I was at work. I checked Twitter like I always do and the news had just broken. There were two posts on my timeline about it. I immediately tweeted “nope” in all caps. I was in shock and to be honest, thought it was a joke or a death hoax like the people of the Internet love to create just give poor, innocent people like myself heart attacks. But why of all people would someone joke that Prince died? It seems illogical and highly juvenile and irresponsible. So that's means it's true then? Prince is dead. In all honesty, I had a panic attack. My heart was racing. My breaths were shallow. I started shaking. It really couldn't be.

The past few months I’ve been reminded of the concept of accepting “This too.” Most of us are eager and excited for the special moments and joyous occasions in life, but automatically avoid and push away the difficult and upsetting ones. It’s natural and in our basic human instinct to act in such a way.

However, as I learned, it seems that the more I push away and avoid acknowledging or even experiencing the more difficult moments, the more it hurts and often, new negative scenarios occur.

2016 did not bring the life I imagined for myself at all...my mother was suddenly diagnosed with a benign brain tumor just after New Years, which in turn, I became her responsible caretaker. Then during her recovery, my darling cat Kelso went missing for three long and worrisome days, only to thankfully return with a broken leg. (He is still recovering in a large “double-makeshift”, dog crate. I believe poor Kelso has succumbed to the idea that being confined to a crate is how he will live out rest of his life..little does he know, he’s about to be released next week)! After my mother’s surgery it was recommended by her wonderful surgeon that she receive radiation. Thankfully she received on 5 days of radiation versus the other possible option of 30 consecutive days of treatment. ​